


Siberian Winters

by vespian



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Claustrophobia, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff without Plot, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8690458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vespian/pseuds/vespian
Summary: Genji's body is built to handle the cold. It comes in handy at times such as this.





	

It was almost unbelievable how fast the temperatures had turned from October to November, and how much a difference a few degrees latitude northwards from the Kemerovo oblast had made. It was ten below freezing on the surface, and barely warmer several meters beneath it.

Overwatch had never broke ground (or perhaps in this case, permafrost) in Russia, or so Genji had told him. During the Omnic Crisis, Russia had denied most offers of foreign aid, had in turn steadily and determinedly fought back the machine horde themselves. Thus there were no 'safehouses' to be found, no Overwatch built rooms under the earth. Genji had a downloaded map of them in his visor, one of the items in the digital care package his contact Winston had dredged up from the organization's old databases. Across nearly the rest of the globe, flickering lights indicated spots of relative safety the newly recalled Overwatch agents could depend on if they had nowhere else to go. His brother had bragged to him that they'd had been designed to withstand the elements and carpet bombing alike, often with enough food to last a year or two if one were to be trapped there in the interim. 

The Russian built bunker, on the other hand, created over months of fighting over lost and regained ground, was never meant to last. It had sat forgotten in the time after the first Omnic Crisis, and they had only found it by chance when one of Hanzo's sonic arrows detected the entry shaft under an accumulation of snow, a pocket of empty air amid the densely packed earth. It was fortunate they had; at least underground they were safe from the building wind and growing snowfall. 

Or rather, Hanzo would be safe from them. Genji seemed to be completely untouched by the cold, dressed only in his scant armor and his dark scarf wrapped around his throat. He himself, however, could not say the same, even bundled as he was with faux fur lined overcoats. He stood and trembled in the middle of the dust choked flooring of the bunker, his gloved hands clutching at his upper arms, hunched over as his breath puffed out white and visible in front of his lips. Inside, it was nearly pitch black, the only light flooding in from a slit of glass in the hatch on the surface. Genji's own lights cast a bright neon green on everything, his visor shining brighter to illuminate a V shaped spotlight wherever he was facing. There were cots lined up tight with one another on one side of the main bunker, terminals lined the other side and what looked like ancient papers lay scattered about on the floor, torn and thinner than parchment. Genji looked over old and ailing machinery, searching for the generator that he claimed should surely still be within, somewhere. He found the oversized thing tucked away in a smaller room, and when he flicked it on, the entire bunker seemed to lurch and rumble before coming to a metallic, squealing halt. When Genji popped his head out of the doorway to check if Hanzo was alright, he found the man with his hands still raised to his ears with a grimace on his face. "No good?" Hanzo asked him, lowering his hands gingerly.

"It may be out of fuel." Genji surmised. "I'll see if I can find a backup."

"If there _is_ one," He couldn't help but add, with his typical touch of bitterness. 

There was a tiny space beside the generator in the closet, and Genji turned himself to the side and wedged himself in, the rounded surface of the back of his shoulders scraping heavily over the concrete wall. He found the backup, tucked away and forgotten behind the main generator. It may have never been used. It took a full minute of manevouring for Genji to bend his legs enough to react down to the button on top of the backup. The box sputtered once before whirring into life, whatever fuel it ran on having managed to last the decades.  
Lights all across the bunker flickered a few times before turning on, casting a dour blueish light over the old metal and concrete. "Ah, there it goes." Hanzo glanced around. The walls were humming with electricity, machines seen and unseen returning to life after their long sleep. He waited, and when Genji did not reappear after his task completed, he entered the small room after him, only for his brother to be nowhere in sight. He caught a glance of green in between the machine and the wall and turned himself sideways to peak in. Genji had rose back into a stand when his brother's face appeared in the space between the main generator and the wall. "Genji?" Confusion and a flicker of concern painted over his features before he could help himself, his brow furrowing in that worry that made his heart ache a little at the familiarity of it. It was by no means the first time he'd gotten himself into a stupid situation to his brother's intense dismay.

His brother let out a light laugh to try and reassure him. As usual, it did little to lighten his mood. "I'm fine--as you can see, it was somewhat hard to reach."

He looked stuck. "...Can you get out on your own?"  
Genji tried to nod, only for the front of his visor to scrape against the painted metal of the generator in front of him. Hanzo's frown intensified, and he turned his body to one side to thrust an arm into the tight space after him. His fingers scrabbled on Genji's upper arm, feeling polymer armor and softer underweave before catching a hold of him, tugging him towards the end of the gap. Genji really didn't need the help, he'd gotten in just fine, he could get himself out. But he let Hanzo guide him, stepped towards his hold and before long he'd slid out from the crevice with a sharp inhale. Hanzo's gloved hands swiped down the length of his body, striking away dust and metal shavings that had clung to him in the process, dark skids and drags all over his body. "You haven't changed at all. Always getting into places you shouldn't." Hanzo rambled as he fussed, almost thoughtlessly, "I would have hoped ten years would have granted you some small amount of common sense but it seems I was wrong."

"I'm fine, Hanzo."

"The heat still hasn't turned on." He added, abruptly, his hands returning to his upper arms once more. The air was still freezing, his breath still as bright (brighter even, with the lights) in front of his face. 

Genji's masked face tilted to one side in what typically indicated thought, and he walked around the bunker once more, placing his hands onto the two shuttered vents on opposite side of the room. His mechanical hands were as capable of detecting temperature as Hanzo's own, and it seemed there wasn't warm air flowing in. "You're right. It might take a while for the heaters to warm up."

Hanzo cringed, hunching back over himself once again to try and conserve heat. They both needed to rest, so they would likely be here a while, and it was certainly better than being outside in the open, but he never took to the cold well, even when he was a younger man. This was miserable for him.  
Genji watched him in silence for a while, only to abruptly step in close to him. "Here." It was rare for his brother to enter his space without prompting, the both of them overly cautious even with the increasing time spent together, missions run and nights passed. His brother pressed his chest against his and shoved his arms into the insides of one of his coats, and it was as if warmth suddenly flooded him, heat radiating from all parts of his brother's body. He stiffened in the sudden hold, the urge to pull away strong but smothered by how /nice/ it felt.

"Genji..." His own hands hung awkwardly in the air, even though they twitched with the urge to press against Genji's back and soak up the heat emanating from there as well. As nice as it was, standing in the middle of the bunker was less than ideal, as was the metal plates over Genji's chest pressing unforgivingly into him. "That's enough." He placed his hands on Genji's shoulders to push him away, only to balk at how warm they felt, even warmer than the rest of him. To his surprise, Genji did withdraw from him, sliding out from where he was tucked under his coat. Instead he grabbed Hanzo by the arm, leading him down over to one of the cots and all but placing him down on one of the stiff, aging mattresses. He raised a brow at him, only for his brother to turn around and sit in the space between his legs on the bed, his comparatively less armored back coming to rest against his chest.  
Hanzo got the message easily enough, and though part of him was still hesitant, he parted his coat further, wrapping up Genji in the loose sides and looping his arms around his brother's middle.

What a world of difference it made. Though the cold still battered down around him and grasped viciously at his back and shoulders, the rest of him was soaking up the warmth shared between them, his shivering coming to a stop.  
Genji's front was a mix between the soft material that made up his artificial muscles and the firmer pads that formed armor for him while still allowing him to move freely as an acrobat. He'd never touched this much before, even with his brother's clear invitation he felt like he was trespassing. All of his body was warm, but like his shoulders, the smaller, glowing metal cylinders embedded into his chest were much hotter. Had it not been so cold it might have been a little uncomfortable to touch them. Instead Hanzo let his hands rest over them, feeling the circle of the cap press up against the heel of his palms.

"You feel like sticking a hand inside an oven," Hanzo muttered, resting his chin next to one of his rounded, glowing shoulder pads. "How can you stand it?"

"Like this," The canisters on his shoulders rotated in various directions, as did the ones under his hands, the ones on the outsides of his thighs, all unscrewing up from deeper inside him. A sudden spurt of hot, wet air rushed past Hanzo's face, and he flinched back with a grimace. All around them the steam in the air quickly condensed, the cold air turning it bright white before it faded into heavier droplets of water that landed on the floor. Small circles appeared in the dust, next to the trails and smears their mechanical feet had made.  
The steam smelled vaguely metallic, salty and somehow human. Like breath.

Genji laughed at his reaction, and he could feel it against his chest, the way his lungs moved and his body shook with it.  
Despite himself, Hanzo felt his lips curling up into a smile, and when the canisters settled back inside Genji's body, he returned to leaning on his shoulder, his hands laying flat over his belly. "Your hands are so cold," His brother spoke, his visor tipped downward towards them. One of Genji's hands came to rest over one of his, an extra layer of warmth just for him. "You haven't changed much either, you know. Even when you were a kid, you had the hands of a poor old man."

Though he felt a ripple of offense, Hanzo didn't deny it, his smile softening. "I should have never allowed you to talk me into this excursion." He chided him instead.

"The heat will turn on soon." Genji leaned his head back a little, a warm, metal clad cheek resting against the side of Hanzo's own. "Probably."

"Well, it hasn't yet."

"Do not worry, brother. I will keep you warm as long as you need me to."


End file.
